Script Initiated:
by The Full Catastrophe
Summary: There were only three rules: he would protect Rex, help Rex reach his objective, and not break the contract. He had already realized that this was more than a simple agreement. He understood that he would throw down his life if it meant the EVO would survive, and no matter the threat the objective posed against humanity, nothing would stand between it and his charge. (AU) -HIATUS-
1. Prologue

**Greetings! It is I, the Full Catastrophe, bringing you an all-new story! This is my first foray into the Generator Rex fandom; I just binge-watched the show on Netflix and fell in love with it. So, bearing in mind that this is AU, please let me know if I'm making any grievous errors and I'll do my best to correct them.**

**(For those of you following Treading Water, the next chapter is in the works. I was distracted by Rex, but I haven't abandoned Danny.)**

**Without further ado...**

* * *

_**Script Initiated:  
**Prologue_

A helicopter soared over his head, clearing him by about five feet. It crashed into the building behind him, and the wind of its explosion, the heat of the flames, pressed on his back. Dimly, he wondered if there had been anyone still inside of it, or the now-collapsing building. He decided it didn't matter; any lives lost were collateral damage, if more lives could be saved in the end.

Their war was a game of numbers, now.

Or worse, it was a war against time, fighting off the inevitable.

Agent Six rolled his shoulders and brandished his blade. He did not have time to think about vague concepts like 'hope', or the noticeable lack of it. To do so would weigh him down, and he would lose.

It was against his policy to lose a fight. Especially against a mutant. Especially against _this_ mutant.

Six had been following this particular gargantuan for the past year. It had first crawled out of the ocean in Hong Kong, and it would dive back under the protection of the deep every time Providence soldiers threatened it. Thirty stories high and sporting a variety of deadly weapons, this biomechanical giant had the ability to level cities in minutes. Six would say it was like Godzilla made real, but he had already made that comparison last month in Tokyo.

Now, it had washed up on the shores of his base country, in New York City. One could say it was searching for something, only it was hard to believe a mutant had much of a mind left. It was displaying typical animal behavior, attack and retreat. What was even harder to imagine was that it had once been a person at all.

After five encounters, it had come to Providence's stomping grounds. Six was determined to make it their final encounter.

Six's partner White, in the "Big Hurt", was leading the ground troops and blasting it with all they had, but his efforts were making little impact. The robotic monstrosity had already taken out their air forces with the sword growing from its right arm and the huge blasters situated on its shoulders. The air was heavy with dust and debris, obscuring the creature but for its cold, glowing blue eyes.

"Still think we should try to get a sample for Dr. Fell?" White grunted over the communicator. It crackled with static; the beast always sent off waves of electrical interference.

"I'm sure we'll find a piece for him," said Six.

"Ready to join in the fun?" said White. "We could use your help."

"On my way."

Six was going to try something new today. He had always attempted to topple the creature from the ground, but judging from the distribution of its armor, its head was clearly its weak point. Planes couldn't get close, but a single man on a single hoverboard would stand a change.

Six was that man. He sheathed his sword and flung the hoverboard to the rooftop. It hung a foot from the ground. It was a prototype, the first of its kind to be used in battle, and it would not hold him for long, especially if he needed to maneuver around the enemy's attacks. It was the reason his departure point was from a nearby building. From there he had a straight shot.

He leapt onto the board, his magnetized boots holding him firmly in place. The board would respond to the movements of its rider, and for when he reached his target, he had a release button attached to his wrist. Six shifted his weight, and the hoverboard shot into open air.

White, waiting for Six's takeoff, blasted the mutant's chest to draw its attention. Agent Six was little more than a speck in the sky, surely like a gnat to the hulking monster. He drew up to the giant's head, which seemed as big as a house, and dropped onto its shoulder with ease; now without a rider, the hoverboard crashed against one of the cannons and shattered.

Landing, Six drew his sword, not wasting a minute. He had no time to waste, for as soon as his feet met metal, the creature's whole attention was on him. Six sprinted to the neck, intent on slashing the exposed wires there.

Something wrapped around his ankle and started to pull with frightening strength. Thinking quickly, Six speared his blade into the creature down to the hilt and held on against being thrown to the ground. Glancing back, he saw a mechanical tentacle had sprung from the creature's hide, and it was what had grabbed him.

His communicator squealed in his ear and then spewed static; Six flinched and yanked the piece from his ear. It was useless now, this close to the beast.

The agent drew a shuriken from his belt pouch and launched it at the tentacle, slicing it through. He collapsed on the hard metal surface but jumped to his feet again. He pulled at the sword, but it was stuck fast in the beast.

Suddenly, electricity rippled across the creature's skin, hot and blue. The muscles in Six's legs convulsed and he dropped to his knees, grunting his pain. Raising his head, he saw the robot's massive left hand drawing near. Two of its fingers, like buses, pinched the back of his jacket with impossibly accuracy. It plucked him from its shoulder. Six's first thought was that he would be flicked away, like so much dirt.

The robot had other ideas. Its mechanical jaws snapped open – Six had not even known they could move – and it raised Six to its great maw. The soldiers on the ground fired furiously at the creature's arm, in vain. It tilted its head back and dropped Six inside its open mouth.

Six plunged into blackness. He slid downward along a cold, narrow passage that twisted and turned at sharp, steep angles. His fingers groped for purchase but found none.

At last he landed, managing to strike the bottom in a crouch. He was in a small, cramped chamber somewhere in the center of the creature. The walls were struck through with angular blue lines of light, the same blue that shined from the robot's two eyes. Six had lost his sunglasses in the tussle, and the light glared too brightly.

He drew himself to full height and found himself face to face with an unexpected thing. The human heart of the creature.

It was a kid – Latino, by the looks of him, and not older than twelve or thirteen. He was embedded in machinery. Featureless, grey technology was wrapped around his arms and legs, burying him seamlessly past his elbows and knees. The same blue matrices crisscrossed his limbs and sprung outward from his eyes, which were staring blankly forward, flooded by the blue light.

This boy, this small human, was controlling the robot. He was its heart and brain.

If Six killed this boy, the threat would be eliminated.

He reached for the dagger strapped to his leg. As though sensing his intent, tentacles sprung from the wall close behind him, wrapping tightly around his arms and legs before he could reach his weapon. They slammed him back against the wall and held him firmly there. Six struggled to move, but he could not gain an inch. His human strength was no match for this.

Six continued to pull at his bonds for a few more seconds until he understood that he was just wasting his strength. Then he relaxed; he knew when he was defeated. The only thing he could do now was to wait for progress outside. White, after seeing his partner of eighteen months being eaten, would surely be unleashing hell. From the explosions and clangs ringing distantly, Six knew that was exactly what White was doing.

Six stared at the boy's impassive face looming only feet away. If the mutant knew he was a threat, why had it not eliminated him? Or was it simply toying with him now?

Abruptly, the sounds of fighting grew dim, and vibrations wracked the inner chamber of the robot. Sickened, Six gleaned immediately what was happening. The robot was being overwhelmed, and now it was retreating – back to the ocean, where Providence could not chase it. Its footsteps shook the inner chamber like small earthquakes.

The world spun, and pressure suddenly beat at Six's ears. They were engulfed in silence, but for the humming of the robot's engines. They must have reached the ocean. Agent Six would not be rescued.

The pressure built to almost unbearable levels, causing Six to groan. He wondered how much longer the oxygen inside the mutant's frame would hold out and then wondered if the boy at its core needed oxygen to stay alive. Outwardly, the human host seemed unaffected by anything happening.

Then, the pressure eased up. They seemed to have stopped moving.

Blue light pulsed outward from the boy, tumbling in waves through the walls of the chamber and disappearing outward in crescendoing and decrescendoing hums. This continued for several long minutes and stopped as suddenly as it started. When it did, the boy's eyes fluttered closed. To human sensibility, he appeared to be sleeping.

Dully, Agent Six studied the mutant in front of him. Here at the core, it was amazing how vulnerable the creature appeared in humanoid form. If a cure existed, and it was administered to this child, what sort of person would he be? He had spent at least the past year as a nanite-active mutant, meaning he was barely older than ten when the change occurred. The kid had not even lived a full life before it was lost.

But there was no cure. Providence's procedure was "Contain or Kill"; this kid could not be contained, so he had to be killed. He had already caused the deaths of too many people. And if a cure did exist and he was restored, how could any person live with the knowledge of what they had done as a monster?

Killing the mutants was the most merciful thing to do.

A certain scientist Six had met back at Providence HQ, Doctor Rebecca Holiday, did not agree. She and other scientists like her had given the organisms afflicted a name, as though they were suffering a disease or simply the next step in evolution. They called them Exponentially Variegated Organisms, or EVOs. Dr. Holiday was against dissecting the creatures; she wanted to study them in a natural habitat. Six admired her morals and humanity, but they were wearing on her psychologically. She would not be able to do her job for much longer, with that mindset.

Time passed. Six stared blearily at the floor of the chamber. His limbs were feeling numb in the grasp of the wall. As he hung there, he thought about the fate of humanity. The nanites were inside of every living creature. Even if they found a way to purge a person of nanites, the microscopic technology would immediately enter the body again, taken in through food, water, or the air itself. Every person in the world was a bomb, the countdown unknown – that included Six, White, Dr. Holiday. No one knew what triggered the transformations, but they seemed inevitable. There were more mutants in the world every day, be they plants, animals, or people. Some places had been completely overwhelmed already, like Kiev or the site of the original Event, Abysus.

They had years, at best, before the mutants outnumbered them. The human race was dying. It was only a matter of when.

Thinking like that, Dr. Holiday's views could be understood. You would want to take pity on a creature, if you knew someday you would be joining it.

If Six were to be honest, he would admit that he was tired of killing. He was tired of seeing people killed and killing creatures that were once human. He wished there was an alternative. There was not one, so he usually did not allow these thoughts to creep in. They would ruin him.

Now, however, his minutes were numbered. The end was drawing quickly near. Why not let his mind drift to things that could have been?

Agent Six only realized he had fallen asleep when his head jerked up. The boy's eyes were open now but no less blank than before.

Six was feeling impatient. He was not afraid of dying; that had always been a risk. But he hated waiting.

"Hey, kid," he said.

The boy's head moved, tilting toward Six. _It can hear me._

"Tell me why I'm here."

For a second, Six did not think the boy would answer or was capable of it. He was surprised again. The boy opened his mouth and a young voice carried out of it in monotone. "Threat quarantined."

Agent Six raised a brow. "So. What will you do with me?"

"No known procedures to empty quarantine."

The boy was speaking like a computer. That wasn't a big shock, considering the nature of this particular… EVO. Six dissected the words, realizing that he was going to be stuck here for the indeterminable future, because this EVO didn't have a code with which to delete him.

He should try to learn more, if only to satisfy his curiosity. "What are you looking for?"

"Objective unknown."

"But you have an objective?"

"Affirmative."

This was very interesting. It would have been useful, had Six had the means of telling it to anyone. Unfortunately, his communicator was now lying on the streets of Manhattan, likely busted beyond recognition.

A thin smile stretched his mouth. He appreciated irony. "Where is it?"

The EVO did not respond. Six frowned at it, before he noticed movement in his peripheral. He looked to either side, spotting long, thin tendrils stretching out toward his head, the ends glowing with the EVO's blue energy. Six jerked away from them, but they were unfazed; they curled along his temples, and with swift, painful jabs, embedded themselves on either side of his head, near the corners of his eyes.

Fire crawled over his skin, pain beat on his head like a migraine, and he was blinded by blue light; he squeezed his eyes shut, but it only grew brighter, searing him. When it faded just seconds later, the pain lingering only as a phantom, another image formed: a rocky beach, a clear blue sky, dark waves tipped with white foam lapping at the rocks. Rusty colored mechanical legs – the robot's, Six realized – were bent toward him. Its left hand rose, like it were Six's hand, and pointed one finger to the northwest horizon.

'It' was there.

Agent Six blinked rapidly, but eyes open or closed, he couldn't get rid of the robot's vision. He was seeing through its eyes. It had hijacked his sight.

He was not a man prone to panicking, but he felt his heartbeat speed up. His body was numb from restraint, and because his eyes registered something different, he felt vulnerably disoriented. He was used to being in charge of his own body; now it felt like he did not have one. Nor did he like the idea of having his mind invaded by an EVO; it was no better than turning into one.

Six ground his teeth. He pressed his interrogation. "How do you know it's there?"

Two more tendrils, chilling and smooth, wormed into Six's ears. His breath hitched, and he groaned as they buried into his eardrums, searing them with the same electric fire that had assaulted his temples. A high-pitched whine grew out of the pain, and it continued far past the point the pain faded. Six shook his head, like he was trying to shake away a gnat, and although he felt the robotic tendrils pulling at him, nothing about his perception changed.

He, or the EVO, or both, stared at the far horizon, the noise incessant in their ears.

"You've been chasing that," he observed. "For the last year."

"Affirmative," replied the EVO, voice echoing in the back of Six's head. It was speaking directly into his nerves. He flinched.

"_Why_?"

"The directive is to retrieve the object." In other words, it was doing what it was programmed to do without knowing why or even what it was after.

"Who gave you this directive?"

"Information classified."

Six frowned. If someone had the ability to control the minds of these EVOs, that was a serious threat to the world. The question now was if there were others like this robot and if the programmer was even still alive.

"Why did you kill the men from Providence?"

"Threat removal procedure." Obviously. It would take out anything shooting at it, especially if said persons were obstructing its mission.

"You do realize you could reach your objective more easily if you weren't a robot as tall as a skyscraper."

The EVO did not respond with words, but a thrum of electricity passed through Six's mind, and inexplicably he recognized it as a question. His own body had almost faded from his senses. He wondered what was happening to him. Was he merging with this EVO?

"Providence attacks you because you seem like a threat. To accomplish your mission, you don't need weapons so much as you need stealth."

It prodded his mind again, questioning. Something occurred to Agent Six – if the creature was willing to listen to him, perhaps he could even strike a deal with it. If he attempted a deal, it would need to accomplish several things at once, including securing his freedom and neutralizing the threat this creature posed.

"Can you dismantle this body?"

"Affirmative."

"Why don't you?"

"Current manifestation of _Rex_ is necessary to protect _Rex_."

'Rex'? What was 'Rex'? Six's mind flitted to the boy embedded in the heart of this robot. Could it be the boy's name? Why would an EVO, much less a bunch of pre-programmed nanites, care about a name?

Agent Six frowned. The EVO would be vulnerable without the hulking robotic shell, but that was the point of this.

"What if _I_ protected Rex? I'm known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world. I'm more than qualified. Besides, I know how to navigate the human world. I'm assuming you don't."

Six could sense its hesitation, strange as that was for a machine to feel. "Script initiated," it said. "Contract agreement. Terms are as follows: the human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world will protect _Rex_ against all threats until the directive is complete. The human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world will assist _Rex_ in completion of the directive. The human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world may not break the terms of the agreement. Agree to the terms of the agreement?"

Agent Six mused on how it was asking him whether or not he would agree to these terms much like new software would during installation. If he wanted escape, it was not like he had a choice. Six was not ready to die. Besides, he wanted to see what this thing was after; he might as well ensure a spot by its side.

And when he discovered the nature of its 'directive', he would do his duty and hand the creature over to Providence. He could already see how this would end.

"I agree."

* * *

When he came to his senses, he found himself lying on a rocky beach, the rocks biting into his back through his armor. Instead of blue electricity, his vision was filled by soft blue sky, streaked with hazy white clouds. The salty smell of the ocean stung his nose. Six sat up and looked around, eyes searching for the robot, which if it were near, should have been incredibly obvious.

The first thing he noticed was sunlight glinting off of a distinctive silver blade a few yards away. His katana, which he'd abandoned hours ago in a new sheath of biomechanical flesh. Six pushed to his feet and went to retrieve it, relieved that it had not been lost forever; it was his only souvenir from his time with One. He felt better with it in his hand, having felt partially naked without it.

Swinging his eyes around again, Six noted a great depression in the rocks of the beach where they had been scraped away or pressed down. If the tide came in, this would become a pool, or maybe a lake. At the center of the depression lay a boy. _The _boy. The EVO.

Six walked to the EVO's side and knelt to observe it. All traces of technology were gone, from not only the boy but from the entire beach. To the naked eye, the EVO looked no different from a normal human being. It was unconscious, a child dressed in a too-tight black T-shirt and blue jeans, wearing ratty sneakers; it had probably outgrown these in its time as an EVO.

Agent Six needed to make sure the creature was alive. He checked the vitals and found that it was breathing and its heart rate was steady. It had no noticeable injuries.

Now Six checked himself. He, too, was uninjured, but for the small incisions where the EVO's tendrils had attached themselves to his optic nerves. There was blood dried along the sides of his face where they had entered. All of his technology was fried, so he had no way of contacting Providence or even telling where he was.

Providence… His eyes flickered to the EVO. They could not be allowed to know about this. If they did, Doctor Fell would dissect the EVO without a second thought, and no one (save Dr. Holiday) would argue against him. Anyway, after the battle in Manhattan, Providence would assume Agent Six was dead and the EVO long gone, still swimming the depths of the ocean. They wouldn't know to look for a boy. They had the perfect cover.

Six was about to lift the EVO into his arms to head inland when it groaned and rolled its head. Its eyes blinked open – not blindingly blue, like before, but human brown. They squinted up at Six, and the creature said, "Has visto mi bicicleta?"

Agent Six blinked once, stunned. "No," he replied.

The EVO groaned again and sat up. It looked around at the deserted beach and back at Six. "Where are we? Who are you? Is that a sword? Wait, was I just speaking Spanish? Are we in Mexico?"

"I don't know where we are," said Six, "and I'm called 'Six'."

The EVO made a face. "Six? Isn't that a number?" It pushed to its feet and turned around, inspecting its surroundings. "So, how did we get here? Why am I here with you? Why don't I know who you are? Why don't I know… _anything_?"

"You don't remember anything?"

It shook its head, frowning at the ground. "No. Nothing, except my name."

"Rex," Six supplied.

The EVO brightened. "Yeah! How did you know?"

He ignored the question. "What about the directive?"

"Is that like a phone book?"

Six was quiet for a long time. He stared at the EVO until it started to squirm.

"You seem like a very serious person, Mr. Six," it said. Then, its stomach squelched loudly. It wrapped its arms around the offending organ and huddled forward. "I don't guess we can order a pizza out here?"

"Let's get off of this beach. We'll find something to eat and learn about where we are."

They wandered together away from the beach until they reached a small town. Road signs indicated that they were in South Carolina, far down the east coast from where they had left Manhattan. They walked in on the main road, the sun sinking in the west and plunging the town into twilight.

Along the road, several building fronts were smashed, and one store had collapsed entirely. Several fires burned in the rubble, and a woman was sobbing, held back by several others. A few men and women with rifles stood around another, unidentifiable, hulking shape that could only be a mutant. The flames reflected dimly off of its slick, maroon hide.

The EVO, Rex, stopped and stared at the wreckage with wide eyes. "What happened? Was there an explosion?"

Six used a firm hand to move it along. "Something like that."

He guided the EVO to a burger joint that was further down the road, out of sight of the wreckage. He ordered two burgers, fries, and cokes for them to share, and they ate outside on a picnic table. Six watched the EVO inhale the food like it hadn't eaten in a year, which, Six realized, it probably hadn't. He offered it the rest of his fries.

When the EVO was done eating, its eyes wandered around the town again. "Everything looks busted." All around them, there were buildings with boarded up windows, cars with caved-in doors and smashed fenders, potholes littering the streets. People's faces were grim and nervous, although some still walked around carefree, laughing and talking.

"This is what happens during a war."

The EVO gaped at Six. There was ketchup trailing down its chin. "A war? Who are we fighting?"

"There isn't one name for them yet, but I think soon the world will call them EVOs."

"E-what?"

"Exponentially Variegated Organisms."

The EVO stared blankly at him. "Is that English? Never mind. What are they? Some sort of terrorists? An out-of-control rock group?" At the last suggestion, it mimed an air guitar then punched its fists in several directions.

Six did not answer for some time. When he did, he said, "You really don't remember anything."

"Just waking up and seeing your face. Not the best memory, but," it grinned sheepishly, "I'll take what I can get."

"Your parents?" It shook its head. "Your age?"

"Nope. No es nada en esta cabeza. Sorry." Sadness flashed briefly over its expressions, and it frowned at the table. In a small voice it said, "I wish there was." It looked up at Six again. "Do you actually know me, or are you kidnapping me? Should I call the police?"

"I don't know much about you, Rex, but I'm supposed to take care of you for a while."

"No offense, but that sounds like something a kidnapper would say." When Six didn't react, it said, dragging out the words: "Aaanyway, tell me more about these EVO people. Why are we at war with them?"

"First, they aren't people. Not anymore, and sometimes they never were."

"If they aren't people, what are they?"

"Mutations. Two years ago, there was an Event, an explosion in a lab in Abysus where nanite research was being conducted. After the explosion, these nanites infected every living creature on Earth-"

"What?" the EVO cried, turning its arms over and scouring them with its eyes.

"You can't see them. They are microscopic on a cellular level. But yes, you have them, too. Everyone does." Not for the first time, the irony of the situation struck Six – explaining EVOs to an EVO itself. It was a bitter irony. He grimaced.

"Can I get them out?"

"No," said Six. "There is no cure. Let me finish explaining." The EVO stared pointedly at him, giving him the go-ahead. "Most nanites are currently inactive. But when they activate, they cause their hosts to mutate into violent aberrations. The nanites can activate at any time, and there is no reversing the effects of the transformation. These creatures are EVOs, and these are the monsters we are fighting."

"So, you mean, back there…"

"Yes. That was caused by an EVO."

The EVO shivered. "Scary. Man, I hope that doesn't happen to me."

Six stared at the creature before him, which started to squirm again under his gaze. Finally, he looked away. "Me too," he stated simply. He needed more sunglasses. Six wasn't good with things like 'eye contact'.

"You need to smile more," the EVO decided. "But you seem like an okay guy. Tough. I guess it's okay if you take care of me for awhile."

"…Thanks."

"Where's your house? Do I have my own room?"

"I have an apartment in Brooklyn. We'll go there."

"Brooklyn? As in New York? Awesome!" The EVO started bouncing up and down on the bench.

"Listen, Rex," said Six. His tone must have meant something to the creature, because it calmed down and looked at him with wary eyes. "We need to lay low. There are people out there who want to kill you."

Its mouth fell open and it pointed at its chest. "Me? Why?"

"That's classified. But if they learn where you are, they _will _rip you apart molecule by molecule. It's my job to prevent that from happening."

"You seem more and more suspicious by the second, mister. Do you work for the government?"

"I did, until recently." _Very recently_. "It's how I know. I have some money. We'll take a Greyhound to New York and settle in there. Do everything I say, and you'll live."

The EVO rubbed its forehead and squeezed its eyes shut. "Jeez. I feel like I woke up in the worst life possible. What were you doing, me?" It knocked both fists against the sides of its head.

Six – no longer 'Agent' – bought the EVO new clothes, and after it changed into them and Six changed out of his own conspicuous gear, they went to the nearest Greyhound station to buy tickets. They had to take a taxi to the neighboring town, but from there, they were able to catch a bus that very night.

By the time the bus departed, it was dark and impossible to see anything through the vehicle's glossy windows. But, had it been daylight, Six imagined that the EVO would have seen a world torn apart and taped back together. The signs of the war were everywhere. As it were, the EVO was brimming with excitement for its 'first bus trip'.

That is, until it became bored, and after eating an entire bag of miniature powdered donuts fell asleep on Six's shoulder.

Six adjusted his new sunglasses and then peered out from under their rims at the creature snoring softly on his shoulder. There were traces of powdered sugar at the corners of its mouth. Six was lucky; no one should recognize this creature as an EVO, not without the right equipment. Rex appeared to be nothing more than a young boy.

He recalled the contract he had 'signed'. There were only three rules: he would protect Rex, help Rex reach his objective, and not break the contract. He had already realized that this was more than a simple agreement. Had Six wanted to turn Rex over to the authorities, he could not have. He understood that he would throw down his life if it meant the EVO would survive, and no matter the threat the objective posed against humanity, nothing would stand between it and his charge.

These facts were in direct opposition to Six's own beliefs and the plans he had made when he proposed the deal. He realized this, but he could dredge up no feelings of frustration or fear at his mind being thus manipulated. The new thoughts were seamless and all-encompassing; they might as well have been his own.

The contract would extend until the directive was accomplished. However, there was no sign that the EVO was aware of any of this. If it could still hear the high-pitched tone coming from the objective, it had not let Six know. Whatever the objective was, it lay somewhere in the vicinity of New York – there or beyond, given the EVO had been chasing it across multiple continents for the last year.

If Six took the EVO there, perhaps he could trigger something. If not, he could still accomplish his other mission without breaking the terms of the agreement. He would prevent this EVO from becoming a danger to mankind, prevent it from ever taking on its true form again, and in a small way, he would still be doing his part for humanity.

Six could not sleep, and soon morning approached. In the pre-dawn, mist rose from the many man-made ponds that dotted the landscape. Six shook the EVO's shoulder, and it woke blearily, rubbing its eyes.

"Qué…?"

"You should tell me if anything strange happens to you."

"Huh? Strange?"

"If you see or hear anything out of the ordinary. For example, a high-pitched noise that only you can hear."

The EVO straightened and frowned at him, wiping at the crusty corners of its mouth. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"I heard it might be a side-effect of amnesia."

The EVO squinted, concentrating, and then sighed. It smiled. "So far so good, Mister Six. Hey, um, I was wondering… When people turn into EVOs, what do you do to them?"

"The protocol is 'contain or kill'."

It shuddered and looked out the window into the misty world. "Got it." The EVO propped its elbow on the windowpane and leaned its head against a fist. "You're my bodyguard, huh? What happens if I become an EVO, too?"

"Try not to do that."

"You don't know anything about my past? Why are you protecting me?"

"Like I said, it's my job."

The EVO pouted; Six could see its reflection pursing its lips in the pane of glass.

The ex-agent tucked his head against his chest, knowing it would seem like he was asleep under his sunglasses. "We have a long trip. Try to get some rest."

The EVO rounded on him, gaping. "Didn't you just wake me up?" it cried. The other riders on the bus shifted. Some cracked open their eyes and glared at it. One person even raised a finger to their lips and hissed, "Shhh!"

"Sorry!" it whispered. It crossed its arms, closed its eyes, leaned its head back, peaked again at Six to make sure he was going to sleep, and relaxed into the bus seat. Within minutes, it was snoring again.


	2. Chapter One

**Good evening! Or in some parts of the world, good morning! We're back with the official first chapter. Woo-hoo!**

**Thanks to YellowAngela, Girlyxxx123, fanaticagenrex, Spektor, Nicky, and Guest for your reviews of the prologue! **

* * *

_**Script Initiated:  
**__Chapter One_

Rebecca Holiday stood outside of the address she had been given. She saw a rusted metal door, set into the brick wall of an unremarkable alleyway in Brooklyn. Although the door appeared flimsy, there was a keypad next to it, two camouflaged cameras above it, and knowing the person who lived here, it was probably reinforced from the other side.

Rebecca glanced at the cameras and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She straightened her skirt and took a deep breath. While her presence would already be known, she wanted to pretend for a little longer that she was not being watched and was merely visiting an old friend, not setting foot into something so dangerous that it had prompted a man to fake his own death to hide it.

Then again, if he was hiding from Providence and had requested _her_ help especially, the secret had to be a good one. Her nerves were practically _buzzing_ with curiosity.

With that in mind, Rebecca flipped over the cover on the keypad and pressed the call button. There was no reply from the other side, but the door swung open, outwards. Like she had suspected, the door was twice as thick as it appeared, and the extra depth was comprised of military-grade alloy steel. The door allowed access into a small, cubical elevator.

It might have been a trap, but if an enemy of Providence wanted to kidnap her, any information she could offer them was outdated. She was pre-White Knight, after all, and had become a pariah of the scientific community. Essentially, she was worthless of herself and as a bargaining chip.

So, she stepped inside, and the door swung closed behind her. While the elevator descended so smoothly that its speed was unperceivable, Rebecca guessed that it must be taking her six or more stories down. The lair would need to be out of the way of other basements, sewer pipes, and electrical lines.

The elevator eased to a halt, and the back panel removed itself to one side. It opened on a long, dull gray corridor, along which two figures were approaching.

The first, Rebecca recognized. While she had never been particularly close to this agent, he had a distinctive 'look'. He had always favored green, and the green combat armor he wore today looked much the same as the armor he had worn around Providence. He wore his brown hair in the same short cut, and like back then, his eyes were obscured behind black sunglasses, mouth a straight line.

All this time, the sixth most dangerous man in the world had been famed dead. To see Six, unchanged after three years, stepping up to her in the flesh, caused a shiver to race unbidden over Rebecca's skin. It was like seeing a ghost.

At Six's heels, alternatively prying the man with questions or staring at Rebecca with wide, curious eyes, was a teenage boy. He was tall and fit, although not as much as Six in either department, and Rebecca guessed from his dark features that he was from Latino heritage. He wore his black hair slicked back and was dressed in bright orange cargo pants and a tight black T-shirt with two blue stripes on the right sleeve. In the comparative silence of the corridor, his voice carried easily:

"- the first person who has _ever_ visited this place! And she's a babe! Are you listening to me? Why is there a beautiful woman here? Did you do something unsavory? Are you actually some sort of Casanova behind all that stoic stoicism?"

A blush rose to Rebecca's cheeks, but the questions glanced off of Six like oil on water. The two reached Rebecca, and as though only just realizing her proximity, the boy recoiled and stepped back behind Six, staring at Rebecca with a mixture of interest and suspicion. He couldn't have been older than fifteen.

Six stretched out a hand, which Rebecca accepted. "Dr. Holiday. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, Agent Six. Outside of your memorial photographs, I mean."

"White chose the photographs, didn't he?"

"Yes…?"

The man's mouth twitched toward a frown. "That explains it. Also, it's just 'Six' these days. I'm no longer an agent."

"You were an agent?" the boy hissed.

"Forgive Rex. He doesn't possess human social skills."

"Hey!" cried the boy. "I so too have social skills." Saying that, he squared his shoulders, bit his tongue, and stepped forward, thrusting out a hand. When Rebecca grasped it, the boy shook her hand with so much enthusiasm it hurt and proclaimed, "I'm Rex."

She smiled through her urge to grimace and retracted her hand as soon as she was able. "Nice to meet you, Rex. I'm Rebecca Holiday."

The boy tried, but failed by grinning obviously, to be suave as he said, "And you're a doctor, huh?"

"I am," said Rebecca. She added through her teeth, "I'm a veterinarian."

Rex frowned at this. "So why are you visiting us? Not that I'm complaining, but it's not like we have a dog or anything." Then he whirled on Six, his childlike enthusiasm plain. "Are we getting a dog? No way! That's awesome!"

"Rex," said Six, "it's time for tai chi. And no, we are not getting a dog."

"But I've always wanted a dog! I mean, probably. But, wait – Nu-uh," said Rex, crossing his arms in a large 'x'. "No way am I doing _boring_ martial arts while there's a real-live person here."

"Dr. Holiday and I need to talk," said Six dispassionately. "You can see her after your training."

The teenager glowered and hung his head dramatically. "Can I at least do kung-fu, or something that _isn't_ tai chi?"

"Tai chi is important for your mental and emotional well-being; it promotes focus and discipline, and it will relieve stress."

"Isn't it also used for self-defense in combat?" said Rebecca, recalling her college days when she had attended a tai chi class for an elective credit.

"It is," said Six. "But it's difficult. Rex hasn't shown he can handle that sort of challenge."

The man hit the precise button for the boy's motivation. Appearing chagrined, Rex punched one fist into the opposite palm and turned to stomp down the hall. "Then you haven't seen what I can do," he grumbled.

Rebecca chuckled behind her hand once the boy was out of earshot. She gave Six a sidelong glance. "Funny. I never pegged you for a father figure, Six."

Blandly, he said, "People are full of surprises."

"You especially. How are you alive?"

"Let's speak in private." Silently, the ex-soldier led Rebecca through a series of narrow, identical hallways and finally into a wide, circular room. In the center of the floor behind a low bar was a holographic map of the globe; the countries and their borders glowed green and were occasionally speckled with dots of red. Rebecca noticed particularly high concentrations of these dots in Ukraine, Abysus, the Amazon rainforest, and the Congo. Any common Joe could tell what this map showed – satellite readings of EVO activity. Most of the nanite-activated organisms were too small to show up on radar, but particularly large evolutions, or high-density populations, were easy to track from space. It was a good way to quickly find new threats and safely monitor old ones.

The rest of the room was dark, lit only by the blue-white light from dozens of monitors. A glance told Rebecca that many were video feeds, probably from the inside of Six's bunker, while others played news stations from around the world and others still ran pure static. In one screen, she spotted a grimly frowning Rex going through the movements of tai chi with an inappropriate amount of aggression.

Six pulled up an extra chair and invited her to sit. Rebecca did so, letting her eyes sweep around the room one last time. Casually, she said, "This is a nice surveillance lab."

"It does what I need it to."

It was time to drop the pretenses. Rebecca crossed her legs and clasped her hands over her knee, leaning forward intently. "Why did you invite me here, Six? This isn't a social call."

The man's expression was unreadable behind his glasses. Rebecca recalled how much she hated that about him.

"You remember," said Six, "the EVO I was fighting when I disappeared."

"The biomechanical one?" Of course she remembered it. In her time at Providence, it had been the bane, and the doom, of many soldiers. There had been nary an EVO like it in the years since. "After Manhattan, it disappeared."

Suddenly, a suspicious feeling crept through her stomach. Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "Well, as far as I know it did."

Six inclined his head. "You understand that anything I tell you will never leave this facility."

"Six, I'm not going to take this information and grovel with it at the feet of the people who screwed me over – if that's what you're thinking."

"I want to be sure of your reasons for coming here today."

"Call it 'intellectual curiosity'," she said over a tight smile. "Also, I knew that if you were forced to ask _me_, whatever you are hiding can't be allowed into Providence's hands. I appreciate that sort of work. That is why you asked me, isn't it?"

"I asked you because you were the only person I thought I could trust, Doctor."

His honesty flustered her, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he continued with his explanation: "After the EVO 'ate' me, I came face-to-face with its human core. It was capable of speech, and I received information from it which convinced me it was more valuable alive than dead. I was able to strike a deal with it – I would protect it, and in exchange it would dismantle itself."

Rebecca gaped before quickly correcting herself. "You're joking. You're saying all we needed to do was talk to it?"

"Something like that."

"So, what happened to it?"

"True to its word, it disassembled its form until all that was left was its human core. However, the core retained no memories, either from its time as a fully-activated EVO or before. But I believe the EVO still holds vital information, so I've been monitoring it ever since."

Rebecca straightened slowly, digesting the story. Her eyes were draw to the surveillance screens. "Then, that boy…"

"Yes. He's the EVO."

On screen, Rex stepped on the trailing pant leg of his loose cargos and slipped, falling on his bottom. He growled out a curse, glanced directly at the camera, and leapt to his feet again, throwing himself with increased vigor into the motions.

He looked human. Most importantly, he acted human. "Is he cured?" she breathed, eyes not leaving the screen.

"No," said Six. "He hasn't displayed any of his abilities, but his nanites are still active. He hasn't been cured."

"But does he know what he is?"

"I thought it best if I kept that information to myself."

Rebecca continued to stare at the boy on the screen, biting her lip. To her knowledge this, an EVO able to change its form at will to such an extreme degree, was unprecedented. It was true that some humanoid EVOs were able to conceal their mutations, but for a rampaging EVO that was once as tall as a building to revert into a fully functional human form – it was unheard of. It would require _active manipulation _of the nanites.

She didn't know what 'information' this EVO might hold that Six was so interested in. But its value to the scientific world was unparalleled. It was doubtful the sword-master had had that in mind when he decided to conceal the boy from Providence, but Rebecca was no less glad he did. Back then, Dr. Fell would have dissected Rex without a second thought and not have left a trace. Even now, there was no guarantee that Rex could survive if he were discovered. There was no telling what the White Knight would do with him.

She poured over her brief interaction with the boy. Based on Rex's reaction to her, the words he'd said and his behavior, he'd been kept down here without human contact for the last three years. That meant _she_ was the first person Six had let in on the secret. So, why her specifically, and why now? What had changed?

She might as well be blunt about it. "What do you need me to do?"

Six turned to the monitors and pulled up a video on one of the inactive screens. It seemed to be a recording. "Rex has been displaying strange behavior over the last few months." In the video, Rebecca could see Rex sitting cross-legged in the middle of a small, shadowy basketball court, glaring into the middle distance and repeatedly punching the floor.

"He's been aggressive, rebellious, and has been experiencing inexplicable mood swings. He deflects all of my attempts to approach him about this. I'm afraid that there might be a disturbance in his nanites, but because I'm not a specialist, I have no way to find out. If something in his biology _has_ changed, it has the potential to be very dangerous for everyone living in the city of New York.

"I prepared a sample of recordings from the last three years so you could see what I mean." Six pressed another button on the control panel, and a video compilation began to play. Rebecca rolled her chair closer to the screen and for the next fifteen minutes observed Rex's life in the bunker.

Six's recordings showed that when the EVO first arrived there he had been nothing more than a boy – wide-eyed and curious, small and vulnerable. Rebecca found it difficult to imagine him as the biomechanical creature that had terrorized the world back then. In fact, it was almost impossible, so she stopped trying and instead decided to view Rex as just that. Rex.

Upon arriving, it seemed much of the boy's time was spent with Six doing various sports or martial arts, or pouring over books. In his room, he would play video games until he nodded off to sleep. He was fidgety but energetic, and was always talking, mainly to ask Six questions about his past in an effort to get the ex-soldier to "crack".

Dated about six months into his stay there, a certain clip showed Rex in his room, frowning directly into the camera. Using a chair, the boy climbed up and reached out a hand, and the video feed turned to static. After that, there were no more clips of Rex in his private chambers.

By the time a year had passed, Six had stopped appearing so often in the clips. On his own, Rex continued to train and study, and he filled the silence by either narrating his own actions or singing songs in Spanish.

In the second year, Rex seemed to grow very suddenly. He shot up in height, and his arms and legs turned lanky and clumsy. He often stumbled over his own feet while jogging or dribbling basketballs. It was also during the second year that Rex stopped talking to himself.

By the third year, Rex resembled the boy she had met at the elevator, although in the videos he rarely smiled, and he would often pause in his activities to stare into space or glare into corners. A number of incidents showed him striking out violently. On one occasion he kicked a practice dummy so hard that it broke in half, and in the shooting range, rapidly emptied his gun into the target and continued to shoot long after he had exhausted the weapon's bullets.

The compilation ended with the same footage Rebecca had seen at the first – Rex in the basketball court, beating his fist against the floor. Then the video turned to static.

"I want you to give him a medical examination," said Six, startling Rebecca from her stupor; she had almost forgotten the man was in the room. "Specifically, I want you to look at his nanites for anomalies."

Rebecca debated over how to say her next words tactfully. "Six… I realize I should still give Rex the examination, but his behavior seems typical of any teenage boy, especially under the circumstances…"

One of Six's brows rose up above his sunglasses. "I never acted like that as a teenager."

She fought her urge to point out that Six couldn't exactly be described as 'typical'. Her eyes drifted back to the live feed of Rex. The boy had taken a break from the tai chi drills and was now squatting Turkish-style, staring off into one of the mirrors set into the wall. His face was melancholy.

"You probably weren't kept prisoner underground for three years straight," she said, quietly. "Why does he think he's here?"

"He knows there are people out there who would kill him."

"Even if he knows that… Six, he's still a kid. I understand it isn't my place to say this, but I think it's natural he would feel moody and restless here. He needs to be around kids his own age. He needs to be in school."

"Out of the question," the man replied. "I can't monitor him there. If something were to happen-"

"So? Put a tracker on him."

"He would break it. He's destroyed all of the cameras I've tried to put into his bedroom."

_Good_, thought Rebecca, pressing back a smile. She was glad to hear that the kid was fighting back against Six, even in a small way. Six's coldness was beginning to wear on her.

She shrugged and leaned back with forced nonchalance. "You wanted my professional opinion. I'm giving it to you. Nip this problem in the bud, Six, or that boy may resent you forever."

"I don't need him to like me. I need him to be safe. Will you examine his nanites?"

Rebecca swallowed her irritation. _For science._ "I will."

"Good. I have all of the equipment you should need." Abruptly, Six stood and pressed a button on a nearby panel. "Rex," he said, and on the screen the boy's head flew up. "Meet us in the medical bay in two minutes."

A smile broke the gloom on Rex's face, and he scrambled from the practice room.

Six strode to the door of the surveillance lab, saying over his shoulder, "Let's do the medical exam. Whatever happens, don't reveal your true purpose to Rex."

Rebecca sighed but followed the man, shaking her head.

Six's medical bay was everything she expected it would be – small but not cramped, well-stocked but not cluttered, totally efficient in the same way as the man it belonged to. It was lit from above by unfeeling white florescent lights, but otherwise was styled in the same dull gray metal as the rest of the bunker. The only difference was that the floor was concrete and equipped with drains so it could easily be cleaned. Amidst the shelves and supplies were two thin medical beds supported on steel frames, covered in white plastic sheets. No pillows.

Rebecca shivered. Her veterinary clinic was more welcoming than this.

Standing in the middle of the room, checking the 'heartbeats' of various pieces of electrical equipment with a stethoscope, was Rex. He must have sprinted to have reached the room first and still had time to goof off.

When he heard them enter, the door of the room sliding automatically to one side with a _hiss_, Rex pulled the stethoscope from his ears and tossed it haphazardly onto a shelf, grinning. "I wasn't doing anything," he lied shamelessly.

Rebecca tried not to stare. Six looked at her pointedly, and his message was clear: _The boy doesn't know. Don't you dare give it away._

So she adopted the same mechanical smile she had often worn around Providence. It was scary how easily she remembered it. _I guess it's natural when you start walking on glass; you have to do certain things to survive_.

Then again, Six surely wouldn't _kill_ her if she did anything wrong. Right?

"Hi, Rex," she greeted the EVO. "How was tai chi?"

Rex took a deep breath in preparation for a rant. "Man, it was aw…" and then changed his mind. "…some. Yeah, it was awesome. You know," he added, waggling his brows, "real men do tai chi."

Six saved her from having to respond. "Dr. Holiday is here to give you a medical examination. Please cooperate with her."

"Isn't she a vet?"

Rebecca plucked the stethoscope Rex had been using from the shelf. "Don't worry, Rex. I was a people doctor before I started treating animals. I'm more than capable." She patted the nearest bed, smiling warmly for the boy. She felt like a taut wire.

Rex hopped up on the bed with ease. His feet swung above the floor, and she noticed for the first time that he was barefoot. "I'm not worried," he said, smiling.

Rebecca retrieved a notebook and pen from her purse. She considered what she was supposed to do here. Ultimately, Six wanted her to examine Rex's nanites, to find out if there were any abnormalities. She should hide that fact under a 'routine physical' so that Rex wouldn't become suspicious. Six said he had all of the necessary equipment for her. Rebecca glanced at the man, where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He nodded curtly.

"So, tell me about yourself," she said conversationally as she began to take the EVO's vitals.

"Besides that I'm_ awesome_?" he preened. Then suddenly, he deflated and looked off to one side. "There isn't much to tell."

Rebecca instructed him to take deep breaths as she listened to his lungs. She made some casual notes on a spare page in her book.

"Six tells me you have amnesia."

"Yeah," he said. "I can only remember the last three years. The rest is a total blank."

"So none of your memories have come back in all that time?" She began to check his ears, eyes, and throat.

"Nope. Well…" He pursed his lips. "Sometimes I have weird dreams. But when I say 'weird', I mean, like, 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' weird. I can't tell if they're memories or if I ate too many tacos." He chuckled. "But it's probably the last one."

Rather than ask about the dreams, which would be too personal a question for a stranger, she said, "'Fear and Loathing'? I'm surprised you've seen that movie."

He shrugged. "I watch a _lot_ of movies."

"Do you know how old you are, Rex?"

"Six thinks I'm fifteen. I guess I feel fifteen. I'm not sure what fifteen feels like, though. Can…" At once he seemed bashful. From annoyed to happy, from proud to melancholy, from amused to shy, all within two minutes. Rebecca wondered if these drop-of-a-hat changes might be a side-effect of his isolation. "Can I ask about you?"

She blinked. "Sure, Rex. But first, let's check your reflexes."

With a small hammer, she tapped one knee, then the other. Rex was delighted when his legs automatically responded.

"Woah! That actually works? No way!"

"Very way," she drawled. "Humans are remarkable like that, aren't they? So, what did you want to ask me?"

"Well," he said, tugging on an ear. He narrowed his eyes at Six, who simply raised a brow, then Rex hid his mouth behind one hand as he whispered, "Are you two… you know?"

"I'm not sure I do…"

Rex was clearly flustered now. "You know!" He lowered his voice to barely a breath. "Do you have… _a thing?_"

Rebecca balked. "Absolutely not," she said, with perhaps more force than necessary. But _really_, the idea of having a relationship with that robot of a man?

"Ah. Okay." The EVO looked away, nodding to himself, it seemed, more than to Rebecca. His face was flushed red.

"Anything else?" she said, dreading what more his teenaged mind would dream up.

"Um, so, if you were a doctor, why'd you become a vet?"

She blinked, taken aback. She hadn't expected the boy to ask such a personal question as that; rather, she hadn't expected him to care.

"It's a long story," she said. "But you could say that I didn't care for the work environment." The real story was too demeaning.

Rex frowned. "Didn't you and Six used to work together?" He turned to Six. "And you worked for the government, as some sort of 'agent'." He framed the last word in doubtful air quotes.

"My past is and will remain a mystery, Rex," said Six. He adjusted his sunglasses.

"That's not fair," Rex pouted.

"How about this," said Six. "Tell me your past, and I'll tell you mine."

The boy gawked. "That's even worse!"

Rebecca couldn't help but laugh. It was strange – unexpected – but she could tell that Six was teasing Rex. Small as it was, seeing something lighthearted from this man was somehow refreshing.

While the atmosphere in the room was relaxed, Rebecca figured she should start in on her true objective. "I'll need to take a reading of Rex's nanites," she said. "What kind of equipment do you have for that, Six?"

Rex turned rigid, and his face paled. "You need to do what?"

Rebecca's eyes flickered to Six, but she couldn't read anything on the man. "It's standard medical procedure, Rex," she fibbed. "Ever since the Event. They say that abnormal or agitated nanites may be the first warning sign of an EVO transformation."

"I thought there wasn't any way to know," said Rex.

"Most of the time that's true, but there have been some special cases."

"What if you find something?" he asked, studying her face. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap.

Six walked between them, toting a metal cart covered in specialized equipment, all of which Rebecca recognized from her time in the field or had read about in the latest nanite research journals. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it," he said. "Now stop being fussy."

Rex squirmed on the table, clearly uncomfortable. _I thought Six said he didn't know he was an EVO. Why is he so nervous?_

Rebecca surveyed the equipment on hand. She tried not to hesitate as she got started; any of this equipment she had used had been with unconscious, non-humanoid EVOs. There had been no need to be gentle back then.

First, she pricked Rex's finger with the portable blood tester; she gave him no warning, and afterward he sucked on his finger with betrayal written across his face. Rebecca understood the look – the doctor's visit had stopped being fun. Part of her wished for some candy or a sticker to give him. Childish as the gifts would be, something told Rebecca he would like them anyway.

Immediately, the PBT beeped at her, four high-pitched tones informing her 'yes, this is an EVO'. "So far so good," she announced. "No active nanites."

"Really?" said Rex. He let out a breath he'd been holding and visibly relaxed.

Rebecca elbowed him gently in the side. "What, did you think there would be?"

"No," he said, too quickly. "It's just…" He rubbed the back of his neck and did not say anything else.

"Rex is afraid of turning into an EVO," Six stated bluntly.

The words were obviously true, because Rex crumpled under them and didn't argue.

Rebecca's heart began to hurt, and it grew hard to hold her smile. "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," she told him. "Everyone's afraid of that. Me too." Maybe her words comforted him. She could not tell.

Next Rebecca picked up a full body scanner, careful to angle the screen so that Rex could not see it – no matter how well he craned his neck. The nanites in Rex's body, while too small to be seen with the naked eye, were numerous enough to appear on screen as light particles, as was typical of an EVO. But that was all that was typical. First, most active nanites were yellow – Rex's were blue. Then, their luminosity was strangely low, as though he had a low number of them in his system, again something she'd never seen or heard of in a nanite-activated organism. Regardless, the nanites were active.

Truly, the whole situation surrounding Rex was atypical. She needed a blood sample.

She rapidly grew annoyed. If Rex's nanites did turn out to be 'special', how was she to know his normal condition? And if she couldn't know that, how did Six expect her to deduce whether or not his nanites _might_ be affecting his mood, which was close to impossible to begin with? This was science, not magic! Did that man really expect that throwing a specialist at his problem would produce a miracle?

Knowing that, she ignored the rest of the expensive equipment Six had prepared for her. "Rex, I need to take a blood sample."

Rex grimaced. "I thought you did that already, with the finger thing?"

"I need a bit more blood than that," she said. Rebecca easily found what she needed among Six's shelves. "But I'm very good at this. You won't feel a thing."

She had the boy extend his arm at one side. His muscles were tight under the skin, and his veins full and blue. As Rebecca tied the tourniquet above the crook of Rex's arm, she said, "Six works you hard, doesn't he?"

Rex hissed at how tight the rubber was and flexed his fingers. "I guess."

"Some people say the tourniquet – the rubber band – is the worst part."

He acted instantly relieved. "Really?"

"But I don't recommend watching. Why don't you tell me about your day-to-day?"

Rex closed his eyes, and Rebecca began to feel for his vein. Brow furrowed, he said, "I wake up, eat breakfast, exercise, study, exercise, study, wash rinse repeat, all day, every day, every week of the year. But after dinner, I have free time. So, I play video games. Watch movies. Read comic books."

While he was talking, Rebecca slid the needle under his skin. He didn't seem to notice.

"What kinds of exercises do you do?"

"A bit of everything – basketball, baseball, tennis, martial arts, swimming, archery, gunmanship, swordsmanship…"

"That really is a bit of everything. Does Six do these with you?"

Rex shrugged, the sudden movement taking her by surprise. She reacted quickly so the needle didn't slip. "Sometimes. Most of the time he just gives me a schedule and he monitors with his cameras. He checks my homework, too, and if I don't get something, he'll explain."

"It sounds like you spend a lot of time by yourself."

The boy frowned deeply, eyes still closed. "What choice do I have? It's not like there's anyone else to spend time with. Just me."

The first vial was full; Rebecca replaced it with a second. It was never a bad idea to have extra samples. "I'm going to take just a little more blood, Rex. You're doing great."

The frown faded, and slowly became a smile, albeit one tinged with melancholy. "Of course I am. I told you. I'm awesome. I can do anything."

"I think that's probably true, Rex," said Rebecca, and she was glad his eyes were closed, or else he might have seen the tears misting her own.

She finished drawing blood and secured the samples; there was a small fridge nearby especially for that purpose. Hopefully Six would also have a lab she could use to examine them. With what she had seen so far of his bunker, it was very likely he did.

Rebecca removed the tourniquet from the boy's arm and wiped the puncture clean with a sterilized cotton swab. She grabbed another swab and a band-aid, but when she looked at the wound again, it had stopped bleeding. _That was fast._

Pulling her latex gloves off with satisfying 'snap's, she announced, "That's all, Rex. You've survived your first medical exam."

"Awesome," he said, jumping off of the bed. His bare feet slapped the floor. "Do I get a sticker?"

"How did I know you'd ask me that?" she said, smiling wryly. "Sorry, I don't have any on me."

"I guess dogs and cats don't need stickers, huh," said Rex. "And I guess this means you're leaving now."

His words were so bitter and full of hurt that, although Rebecca had only met him not even an hour earlier, she felt guilty to be the one causing that pain. She looked at the boy's guardian and hazarded, "Actually, I need a couple of days and a proper lab to run analyses of these samples. I thought Six might allow me to do that here."

Rex stared at Six, hope gleaming in his young eyes. The older man tugged at the corner of his sunglasses. "Considering the circumstances, it is best for Dr. Holiday to do her work here."

"Do you have a lab for me?" _And a bed_?

"I think my lab will meet your needs. You can also live here in the meantime."

"Yes!" exclaimed Rex, pumping a fist at his hip.

"This doesn't mean you are allowed to slack, Rex," said Six. "Don't be a nuisance. Speaking of which, what are you supposed to be doing right now?"

The boy looked at the clock on the wall and, pouting, said, "Calculus." Six said nothing, but after several seconds of that nothing, Rex groaned loudly and dragged himself from the room.

The ex-agent turned to Rebecca. "Let's return to my surveillance lab."

Back in the lab, Rebecca crossed her arms and stared skeptically at Six. "Any reason we have to talk _here_?"

Six gestured to one of the active screens. It showed Rex in some sort of cafeteria, opening books and pulling papers from a binder. Glowering at this stuff, the boy began to scratch out numbers with a wooden pencil. "It's the only place where I can be sure he won't eavesdrop."

"You really do never let him out of your sight."

"I can't afford to. The moment I slip might just be the moment that he loses control."

Rebecca held up her notebook. "Rex is definitely an EVO, but his nanites seem to be unique. I won't know for sure until I run further tests, but unless you have previous data for him, and I don't mean video recordings, I probably won't be able to tell you if anything is anomalous. You _don't _have any data for him, do you?"

"…no."

She pursed her lips. "I thought as much."

"Is there anything you _can_ tell me?" said Six.

"I can tell you this – that boy is suffering from severe social isolation. He is lonely, bored, and probably depressed. I can tell he is very bright, but his emotions are on a roller coaster. If you are worried about a distressed mental condition signaling or even triggering his EVO state… you need to fix this."

One of Six's brows rose. "You could live here permanently. Keep him company."

Hot rage bubbled up in her stomach. "I'm not a replacement for society, Six. Try to think about it from his point of view! After spending day after day, alone, he relaxes by reading books and watching movies, seeing people living lives he'll never be able to. He probably knows all about things like friendship, love, family, but he doesn't have any of them. Does he even have a dream? Anything he wants to be when he grows up?"

"You're angry," observed Six.

"Because you are being cruel. I thought you were bad when you were a part of Providence, but that is nothing compared to now. At least back then you didn't torture anyone."

"I'm doing what I have to in order to protect the world from EVOs."

"He isn't a threat! He's just a teenage boy."

"I'm not letting him go outside," said Six. "That's my decision."

"Then I'm not going to run your tests," said Rebecca. "That's mine." She turned on her heel and made for the door.

As the door slid aside to allow her departure, Six said, "Wait." Rebecca stopped, but she did not turn around. The door hovered, waiting to see what she would do. "I'll… think about it."

"That's just a soft way of saying 'no'. Not good enough." She stepped through the door and continued walking. If he really wanted her to stay, he would have to make an effort.

"Fine," came his voice behind her after a few seconds; she had hardly moved down the hall. _He's trying to hide it_, Rebecca realized, _but he must be desperate._ "I'll do it. But I want you to stay here and help me with him."

"You want me to move away from my home and live underground?" _And have access to study an EVO that the scientific world has never seen before? To leave my humiliation and return to doing what I love? To save an innocent boy from this injustice?_

"I'll pay you twice as much as you are earning now," said Six.

"…I'll do it," said Rebecca. She turned, and locked her green eyes on the man. She hoped they burned into him like acid. "But you'll pay me three times as much. And you will keep up your end of the bargain. You'll treat Rex like a human being, or I will leave."

"I seem to be making a lot of bargains," said Six, and his mouth stretched into a thin smile. "But I agree. I'll be counting on your assistance in that matter."

Rebecca nodded curtly. "Now, if you'll show me to my lab…"

* * *

**Right now it's spring break here in Japan, and for an ALT (assistant language teacher) like me, that means a whole lot of sitting at my desk doing nothing. I've been using the time to write this story. That's productive and totally worth my paycheck... right?**

**Therefore, the next chapter's close to finished. Please look forward to it in about a week's time.**

**T.F.C~ **


	3. Chapter Two

_**Script Initiated:  
**__Chapter Two_

Rex glanced between the two people sitting at the table with him, back and forth. He could not stop smiling, even to chew his food. This was the most exciting thing he could remember happening since getting to New York. It was the first time – the first time _ever_ – that he had eaten dinner with _two _people.

Should he be talking? They weren't talking. But he felt like he should say something.

"Taco Tuesday is my favorite," he announced. "Six didn't believe in it, but I made him add it to the menu. Now every Tuesday is Taco Tuesday."

"I'm glad you did," said Dr. Holiday. "These are very good." She smiled, and Rex felt his heart flutter.

He rarely thought about whether or not things were beautiful, but he knew one hundred percent for sure that this woman was a 'beautiful thing'. Nor had he ever thought green could be beautiful. When he thought about the color green, he imagined Six and his infinite green combat outfits. But Rex had never seen green like the doctor's eyes. They reminded him of the Chinese jade dragons he saw in martial arts movies.

Rex was glad she liked the tacos.

"So, how long are you going to stay here, Doc?"

Her jade dragon eyes flicked to Six and back to Rex. "Well, Six and I were talking, and we decided it would be good for you, and him, to have a permanent physician on the premises. Therefore," she said, winking, "I'll be staying here for a long time."

Rex's head spun. This was probably the best day of his whole life. Not only had he gotten to meet another person and eat dinner with her, she was going to be staying there! They could eat dinner again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next!

The doctor continued, "I'll run the blood work first, but then I need to go back to Colorado for a few days to take care of business there."

Six nodded. "Of course. Do what you need to."

"Also, Rex," said Dr. Holiday, "I want to talk to you about something."

"You do?" said Rex. He tried to guess what she wanted to say to him. Was it good news? Bad news? Was she going to be rooming with him? Had she forgotten to tell him about some horrible, disfiguring disease she had discovered during the exam that afternoon? His blood rushed, and he was eager to know what Dr. Holiday would say, no matter what it was.

"Yes. Rex, how would you feel about going to school?"

This woman was an angel. She was an angel from Heaven. Eyes watering, Rex turned his face to the ceiling, clasped his hands, and said, "Gracias, Dios mio. Muchas gracias!"

"Is that a 'yes'?" said Dr. Holiday, smiling wryly.

He dropped his supplication and slammed a fist on the table, rattling their plates. "It is most definitely a 'yes'. When can I start? More importantly, what did you tell Six to get him to agree to this?" Rex had been plying his guardian on this topic ever since they got to New York, and not once had Six budged.

The beautiful, angelic doctor chuckled, then explained. "I told him, for your health, you should be around kids your own age. Now, there is still the matter of your safety, so we're devising some methods of…" Her explanation faded into the background, her words no longer the most interesting thing in the world. For he, Rex of No Last Name, would be going to _school_. Images of hallways, lockers, desks, sneakers stepping in chewing gum, bullies hanging students from flagpoles with atomic wedgies, dreaded tests, study parties, dances, cute girls, football games, cheerleaders, graduating and throwing a cap into the air… He'd dreamed about these things, but he never thought he might someday be a part of them.

"… out, the new school year at Benjamin Franklin High School begins in three weeks, so we can enroll you there as a sophomore."

"Huh?" said Rex. "Three weeks? I'll be a sophomore? High school?"

"You weren't listening to any of the important details, were you?" said Six, and he bit into a taco with a loud crackling of corn chip.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll keep me safe, won't let me out of your sight, same old, same old, got it. I'm going to high school! Do I need new clothes? What do high school students wear? I need a backpack, too. Ay caramba, I'm not ready!"

"I'll buy you whatever you need," said Six. "But I have one condition. You follow my rules, or I will pull you out of this school. There will be no appeals."

"Technically that means you have more than one condition. That gives you the right to, like, infinite conditions."

The 'serious' brow rose up over Six's sunglasses. "Rex."

"Okay, dropping it! So, uh… what were the rules again?"

* * *

Rex lay in his bed that night, staring at the Gundam poster on his ceiling. His face was stretched by the same grin he had worn since dinner. He felt like he was floating. Maybe three years was not much to draw from, but he literally could not remember ever feeling so happy.

Today had been nothing but good news. Their tiny underground family had just gotten fifty percent bigger. He was going to be a high school student. He was going _up there_! And now he had definite proof that he was not an EVO.

The fluorescent lights buzzed in response to his feelings, but for once he didn't hold it against them.

Rex rolled onto his stomach, grabbed the TV remote, and punched the 'ON' button. The small box television at the end of his bed whined and then fizzled to life. Rex clicked his way to channel 8, hoping a rerun of "El Amor De La Pasión El Amor" might be playing – he could think of no better characters to share his feelings with than Carmen, Isabella, and Reynaldo. Unfortunately, the channel was showing infomercials just then, advertising a brand of cat litter that would protect against even EVO-sized odors. Rex made a face and moved on.

On Channel 10, Ultimate Exposure was just starting, spinning onto the screen with action-packed colors and graphics. The pretty British lady, Diane Farrah, appeared standing at the edge of Central Park. Behind her, white Providence aircraft hovered in the sky, shining spotlights at the ground and illuminating the bulky armored trucks and the Providence grunts rushing between them with their guns. Trees were down, and the lawn was torn up, turned into a mess of dirt piles. Rather than a park, it was more like a construction zone. Rex thought that was too bad; he'd always liked it when movie characters visited Central Park. It looked like a great place to walk, take a person on a date, or stop a mugging.

The wind from the aircraft whipped the reporter's hair into her face, and she had to shout to be heard: "Yet again, disaster has struck the island of Manhattan, and it comes in the form of – you guessed it – an EVO. My sources tell me it was once canine, a long-haired Dachshund named Lily to be precise. Now, man's best friend has turned on its masters, biting the hands that once fed it. It has been rampaging through Central Park since about six o'clock this evening, digging massive holes in the previously beautiful lawn. It is not the first time this landmark, this symbol of America, has been targeted by the creatures. Our viewers are sure to remember the mushroom event of last April – and now I must ask, will the beauty of this place ever be restored or shall it, too, fall in the ongoing battle against these monsters?

"Providence has established their perimeter, but unfortunately they were too late to save the lives of seven innocent park-goers unable to escape the chaos. A dozen more have been rushed to the hospital with injuries ranging from minor to life-threatening. Out of respect for the victims' families, I'm afraid we cannot release any names at this time. But let's try to get a glimpse of this EVO, shall we?"

Rex leaned forward, squinting at the poor-quality image. The camera-man turned the screen from Diane Farrah and zoomed in past the Providence forces to a dark, blurry figure in the background. At first, the EVO only looked like writhing shadow. But then, a spotlight hit the shadows and illuminated them.

"That was a _dog_?" said Rex. It looked more like a dragon, or a centipede, or really almost anything but a dog. On screen, it seemed to be as tall as the Providence trucks and twice as long. Most of its body was hairless, covered in smooth, black skin, and black hair sprouted from its spine like some kind of mane. It was using its ten or so legs to scratch away at the dirt, and when the lights hit it, it snarled up at the aircraft responsible, crinkling its long snout and exposing sharp canine teeth. Its growl rumbled through the park like thunder.

A truck rolled in front of the camera, then, and the image switched back to Diane Farrah. Her mouth was hanging open, and it took a second to recover her composure.

"As you can see," she said, finding her voice, "this EVO is not one to be taken lightly. All we can do now is hope that the Providence forces are enough to end this pointless violence.

"We have with us here the dog's owner, Mike Pemberton, who emerged from the incident remarkably unscathed. Let's see if Mike can answer a few questions for us." The camera-man backed up, allowing the reporter to pull another person onto the screen while keeping the battle visible in the background.

Mike Pemberton was a middle-aged man with receding blonde hair and a face turned pale by trauma. He stared into the camera with round, teary eyes. Diane held the microphone out to him.

"Mr. Pemberton, when did you first realize that your dog was turning into an EVO?"

"Lily's never hurt anyone," he said, voice small under the noises behind him. "I swear, Lily's always been a good girl. She never liked EVOs; always growled at them on the TV. She wouldn'ta hurt a fly – she was scared of flies!"

"Today must have been shocking for you," the reporter pressed.

"We were just walking. We always walk this time of day, and we always take the same route, so as she won't feel stressed. But she started sniffing at this patch of grass, and she started digging at it. I thought that was strange, because she's not a digger, you know, like most Dachshunds. I trained her good when she was a puppy, you see, and she was a real good girl, never dug any holes."

"But today was different."

"It was! So, I scolded her, I tried to pull her away, but she wouldn't listen to me. Then… then… she started to…" Tears spilled over his cheeks, and he pressed a fist into his mouth to stifle the sobs.

"Thank you, Mr. Pemberton. Let's stop there." The frame shifted, cutting Mike Pemberton from view. "While we are waiting for this crisis to be resolved, I'd like to ask our viewers to check out our Ultimate poll of the day."

A purple banner rose on the bottom half of the screen, and as Diane Farrah narrated, the following words appeared: "'Despite knowing it could turn into a rampaging monster at any time, would you still want to own a pet?' Send us your answers on your smartphone or tablet, and we'll share your feedback in about ten minutes."

The live feed shrank to a small box in the corner of the screen and was replaced by a bar-and-line graph. "Data collected since the Nanite Event show the negative impact the EVOs have had on pet store sales-"

Rex slammed his finger on the power button, and the image winked into blackness, the television powering off with an exhausted sizzle. His previous exuberance, like the image on the screen, had fizzled away, leaving instead a deep, black worry he had harbored, and that had festered, since the first day.

Besides school and people and all that came with them, there were EVOs up there. The whole world was at war with them, and the whole world was losing.

Really, the EVOs scared Rex way more than the faceless, nameless, shadowy bad guys he was actually being protected against. Those people were just that – people – and Rex felt pretty confident he could kick their butts should they try to come after him now. The EVOs, not so much. Like, if it took a whole squadron of Providence grunts to bring down one EVO'd _dog_, what chance would Rex stand against them?

EVOs made him feel terribly sad, too. EVOs were really just people, or animals or whatever, who were changed into monsters against their will. Rex had seen so many news stories where people would turn EVO and kill their entire families without meaning to, and then Providence would show up to either lock them away forever or kill them on the spot. Becoming an EVO was like dying, only worse. It was like turning into a bomb first and taking out as many people around you as possible while you blinked out of existence.

The worst part was that _he_ might turn into an EVO, too, and no amount of dirt between him and the rest of the world would protect him from that. He could turn into an EVO, or even Six, and now, Dr. Holiday.

Going up top was going to be awesome – he knew that. It was something he had always wanted. But inevitably, he was going to see EVOs up there. Not so awesome. Not awesome at all.

Rex flopped onto his back and returned to staring at his ceiling. Feeling rather too depressed now to stand up, Rex pressed his hand to the wall next to him. Glowing blue lines spiderwebbed from his fingertips, connecting him to the circuitry. He knew these particular wires well, so it was easy to find the circuit he wanted and tell the electricity flowing there to stop. As soon as he did, the light in his ceiling went dark, leaving only the blue matrix on the wall to dimly illuminate the room. When Rex removed his hand, it quickly faded, too.

He lowered his hand; it tingled with the residual energy of talking to the wires.

At least he wasn't an EVO. He had never _really_ thought he was – after all, having a power did not have to be the same as having a mutation. But it was good to have it confirmed by a specialist. Now, he could feel confident in exploring what else this ability meant.

If he wasn't an EVO, his powers had to come from somewhere else. And probably, this could explain everything. Someone out there knew that he was special, and they were afraid of him, so they wanted to destroy him. So obviously, Rex's parents wiped his memory for his own safety and entrusted him to Six.

And that meant his powers _had _to be important. He just didn't know how to use them properly.

All of that would change with high school. As soon as he went to the outside world, he would encounter misdeeds, crimes, and dangerous situations – and maybe even EVOs – that would force him to do battle and learn his true strengths. Maybe he could even find an arch enemy. The Big Bad.

He could be like Spiderman. Spiderman was just a high school student when he became a…

"…superhero." Rex whispered the word aloud with a guilty thrill.

Rex could end up saving New York, or the whole country, or the world!

These past three years must have been the training-on-a-desert-island montage, just placed out of order. That was okay. The training montage was always so boring it warranted a time skip, so if Rex was already finished with it, he wouldn't have to bother later.

Rex liked getting boring things out of the way first. That was his style.

Well, when the boring things couldn't be avoided entirely, that is.

He sat up and swung his legs over to hang off the bed, feeling the rough carpet of the floor under his toes. This wasn't a time to feel depressed. His whole life was about to change. He should feel pumped. And he did. Rex was absolutely pumped. He didn't expect he would be able to sleep at all that night. How was he supposed to get through three whole weeks of waiting?

* * *

The three weeks went by more quickly than Rex had anticipated. After Dr. Holiday returned from Colorado with all of her belongings and moved into the bunker (sadly, she would not be rooming with Rex; that was for the best, he guessed, since having a roommate would make things pretty crowded), she always ate meals with him and sometimes joined him for his exercise. Rex found it was really easy to talk to Dr. Holiday. He could tell her about anything, and she never seemed bored to listen.

Then, the high school had sent him a welcome pack of the material he'd missed from the 9th grade year there, and these new textbooks and worksheets replaced the ones he usually used. Rex was happy to discover that he knew almost everything already, and completing this 'homework' – he'd never had homework before! Just work! – was pretty fun.

Six gave Rex a lot of new things in the meantime. He got new clothes, new shoes, 'school supplies', and a backpack. He got a cell phone, and at first Rex was shocked that Six even considered that he would need a phone to collect friends' numbers with and to send them text messages. And if that had been Six's true intentions, Rex would have had every right to have been shocked.

Naturally, there was a more Six-like reason behind the phone. "Since we will be separated for over seven hours every day, I need a way to contact you in case of emergency."

Even so, that didn't mean Rex _couldn't_ use the phone to collect numbers.

Most impressively, Rex got a new name.

He had never had a last name. If Six knew what it was, he never revealed it, probably for 'Rex's own good', like most things that were 'classified'. Which was basically everything.

So the last name Six gave him now was probably a fake, but it was exciting nonetheless.

And then it was Monday, the first day of school. Rex had hardly been able to sleep the night before, and when he sat down to breakfast with his two bunker-mates, he could hardly eat for the nervous anticipation souring his stomach. He almost cried when he learned Dr. Holiday had made lunch for him; she gave him the little, insulated, fabric lunchbox just after he shouldered his new backpack.

"Have a good day, Rex," she said, smiling warmly.

He swallowed. "Do you think I'm forgetting something? Am I wearing pants?!" A quick glance assured him he was, in fact, panted.

"It's time to go," said Six before leaving the room. For better or worse, Rex was forced to follow.

Six led him to a part of the bunker he rarely visited – the front elevator. Rex knew he could get out of the place if he really wanted to; that is, he had the ability. But, with Six watching Rex's every move with his bajillion cameras, he would not have gotten far. Plus, it would have put his secret at risk, and for nothing.

His guardian punched the code at the door, and it slid open. Inside was the little box Rex had last stood in three years ago, descending into the earth, wondering what he would see. Back then, he'd been excited to go into the bunker; now, he was excited to leave it.

Elevators were good places, he decided. They moved people.

Rex stepped inside and watched the gray, featureless, familiar hallway disappear. The elevator hummed around him, and he understood everything about it. He could feel its brain through his feet.

They glided smoothly upwards, and when they reached the top, the wall in front of Rex hissed and moved out before swinging open. Rex was bombarded with noises – New York City street noises, just like he'd heard on TV so many times. Wide-eyed, he stumbled out of the elevator.

He was back in that little alleyway. Brick surrounded him on two sides, like a hallway. At the end of the passage, cars zoomed past, and people were walking – so many people, wearing all sorts of things! The concrete was firm under his feet, but somehow it felt different from the concrete floors of the bunker. And the smells! The smells were so new! Rex didn't even know what they were coming from, but he thought that a hundred different smelly things must be nearby. He wished he could go find them all.

His head tilted back almost of its own accord. Up there, past black metal stairways and various shiny-glassed windows, was a strip of blue, streaked with white. The sky.

Rex tried to remember the last time he had seen the sky. He had some vague memories of the very beginning, being on a beach somewhere in South Carolina, arriving in New York City in the early morning. He'd seen the sky then, but he didn't remember it being quite this shade of _blue_.

The air swirled around him, like a fan was blowing. It tugged at his clothes, and Rex finally realized it was the wind.

_This_ was outside.

"Rex," said Six, a few feet away. The man was wearing a forest green suit, to make him look less conspicuous, he had said. Rex thought it looked ridiculous, but Six probably knew more about up-top fashion than he did, so he let it slide.

Rex swallowed. "I'm coming," he said and marveled at how the open air seemed to suck the power right out of his voice. _So cool_.

Six led Rex to the end of the alley. Parked on the curb was an unremarkable, black, compact car. Distant muscle memory led Rex to grab the handle on the passenger-side door, open it, and get inside. The new technology swirled its energy around him even before Six turned over the ignition. He'd never explored such a thing as a car before, and if he'd been less preoccupied with other things – like the city of New York – Rex would have let his senses spread through the machine to figure out how exactly it worked. It had even been years since Rex had met new technology.

His guardian started the car and pulled into traffic. While they drove, Rex's face was pressed against the window so he could see as much as possible.

"Do you remember the rules?" asked Six.

"Duh. You made me write them down."

"School is a privilege, not a right, Rex," said the man. "If you break one rule, one time, I'm pulling you out."

"I'm not going to break your stupid rules," huffed Rex, breath fogging the window. "This is too important for me."

"As long as we're clear," said Six, and he seemed to be satisfied.

The twenty minute drive to Benjamin Franklin High School flew by, and soon, Six was pulling the vehicle up to the front of a massive, brick building. Kids of all shapes and sizes were swarming to the front doors, from the sidewalk, from other cars, from the buses lined up at the side of the building, talking with each other so loudly that Rex could hear them from inside the car. Suddenly, high school seemed very, very real.

"I'll be here at 3:30," said Six, oblivious to the fact that Rex was frozen stiff. "I expect you to be here, too."

"Uh huh," Rex replied weakly.

"Remember that you need to go to the front office first."

"Uh huh…"

"And try not to turn into an EVO."

Rex, dumbfounded, stared at his guardian. "Seriously?"

"I wanted to make sure you were listening."

"Most parents say something like, 'Make good choices!' Not, 'Don't turn into a monster today!'"

"I consider that to be making a good choice. Do you have your phone?"

Rex flashed the little dark green flip-phone at the man, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I have my phone. Get off my case. I'm going now." He flung the door open and placed his feet on the ground before realizing the significance of the moment. Now it was too late. So he stood, slammed the door behind him, and was left alone in this strange new world.

Gripping a backpack strap in one white-knuckled hand, his lunchbox in the other, Rex took his first steps as a high school student.

* * *

Noah Nixon strode out of the classroom with all the swagger he possessed, twirling his ping pong paddle like a freshly fired gun and stashing it in his backpack.

Noah was now a sophomore, officially an "old pro". Now on another level from them, he was able to spot newcomers to this school with ease – shorter, even more awkwardly proportioned than most teenagers, with just a glimmer of the hope of childhood left in their eyes. And they would look up to _him_, he who had already braved most of the trials BFHS had to offer.

Noah, feeling notably _superior_, smirked. He could get used to this.

The table tennis club had just had its first meeting of the year. It was the earliest they'd ever met, but if they wanted to beat East Side this year, they had no time to spare. Admittedly, table tennis wasn't the coolest sport that the high school had to offer, but they already had a good crop of freshman who wanted to join to replace the members who had graduated. They were not off to a bad start.

There were about twenty minutes left before classes began. Noah dug his crumpled class schedule out of his pant pocket and decided to get started. First, lockers. His was on the second floor.

Noah took one of the corner stairwells, nodding at old classmates on the way, wondering briefly about the origins of certain stains that had been there all through his freshman year, too. The whole building was old, smelled of mildew, and was kind of battered. The school had replaced all of the busted windows, probably in celebration of the new year, but one hall on the third floor was still closed because of the kid who had turned EVO there the year before Noah arrived. Even though no one had died, a lot of people said it was haunted.

But, the funny smells, weird stains, and structural instability made the whole building seem kind of homey – just like grandma's house, only more… institutional.

Noah found his locker. Being on the middle floor was pretty convenient, and it wasn't in the worst spot. So far so good. He looked at the combo written in pen next to the locker number on his schedule, and after a couple of tries, was able to get it open.

Noah put his stuff away, closed the door, and realized that the kid two lockers over from him was _still_ fumbling with his lock. He'd been there before Noah arrived, and had now resorted to glaring at the door like he thought his eyes could melt through it.

He didn't recognize the guy. _Must be a freshman_. "Need some help?" said Noah, feeling old, wise, and philanthropic. One of his SAT-prep words barged in, further swelling his head – _sagacious_.

"I don't understand why anyone needs to lock up their books," the kid replied. "Are those really hot items to be stolen?"

Noah shrugged. "The books aren't, but a lot of students bring their JM Pods and JM Pads to school, too. _T__hose_ are worth a pretty penny." Noah knew that only too well. He sighed, wistful.

The kid frowned. "Uh… jammin' whats?"

"You know, like, JM Inc.?" _(1)_

"Jamming ink? For a printer?"

Noah gaped. Was this guy serious? "No offense or anything, but have you been living under a rock?"

The new kid looked stunned. "How did you…? I mean, _no_. I was, uh, homeschooled."

"Under a rock," Noah drawled. Then an idea occurred to him. He wrapped an arm around the kids' shoulders and offered him a friendly smile. "So, you're new here and, not to brag, but I'm an old pro. If you want, I could show you the ropes, teach you everything you need to know and need to avoid while navigating the choppy waters of public education. What do you say?"

Noah was afraid the kid was about to burst into tears. "You'll be my sempai?"

"I don't know what that is, but sure, I'll be your sempai." Noah pulled away and turned to face the other boy. He stretched out a hand. "My name's Noah. Noah Nixon."

The kid's eyes seemed to light up upon seeing the offered hand. He grabbed it with his own painfully tight grip and shook so hard Noah thought he might dislocate something. "I'm Rex," he said. "Rex Rodríguez."

* * *

_(1) JM Inc. - a company I've invented for the Script Initiated: universe. It's pronounced, "Jammin' Ink", hence Rex's confusion. This company shows up again later._

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait. When this new school year began, my job became unbelievably busy. The last two and a half months, if I was not working, I was usually sleeping, and there were days I thought I would faint. Writing became no more than wishful thinking... **

**But, here we are! Let me know what you think of this chapter! I introduced two new POVs, Rex and Noah. Outside of the four characters so far (Six, Dr. Holiday, Rex, and Noah), I probably won't write other viewpoints, except on special occasions. So, I really want to have their voices down.**

**This chapter is also a fair bit shorter than the others. It was originally 1200 words longer, but I think those pages fit better in Chapter Three. So it goes. But, this also means Chapter Three is already 20 percent finished! Haha.**

**Thanks to YellowAngela, Nicky, WerewolfCrime, and all of the Guests who reviewed! **

**I won't make any promises about when the next chapter will be up. I'll simply ask, please be patient! _Ganbarimasu!_ (I'll do my best!)**


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